


Sing Me to Sleep

by meyghasa



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 18:37:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7372999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meyghasa/pseuds/meyghasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unabashed fluff in which Clear sings Mizuki to sleep after a nightmare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sing Me to Sleep

Everything was dark.

The city would ordinarily be bustling with life, people spilling into the streets, signs littering the buildings in bursts of neon. Instead it was dark, dark enough that he could barely see six feet in front of him. The street was completely deserted, another oddity. Where were his friends? Where was his team? Where was anyone?

A noise echoed in the darkness from his right. He spun to face it and was rewarded with the glimpse of a figure in the gloom. It shuffled towards him slowly, zombie-like, until it was close enough for him to see its face. Kenji, staring at him with dead eyes, Morphine tag crudely sketched across one bicep. Another figure emerged behind Kenji, and another, and another, all shuffling towards him. They each stopped in a line before him. Yumi. Tetsurou. Ayumu. One by one, members of his team emerged from the darkness, each marked by Morphine tattoos and sporting the same cold, dead stare. 

“You did this to us,” a hollow voice said. He spun around, and in the darkness he could see he was surrounded by his brainwashed compatriots. “You did this to us.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he whispered. “I only wanted—“

“You did this to us!” the voice shouted. It got progressively louder as it repeated itself again and again until he was cowering on the sidewalk with his hands over his ears. The circle of Dry Juice members converged on him, leaning over him until all he could see was the reflection of dozens of dead eyes. One reached out to him, placing clammy fingers on his shoulder and starting to shake. Then they all were reaching for him, ripping at him, shaking him hard as he begged them to stop. 

“You did this to us, Mizuki. Mizuki. Mizuki-san. Mizuki-san…”

“Mizuki-san!”

Mizuki’s eyes flew open as he sucked in a harsh gasp. Bright eyes in a concerned face loomed over him, and it took him several moments of hitched breaths and blinking to realize where he was—safe in bed, tangled in the sheets, panting. “Clear?” he croaked.

Clear smoothed a hand over Mizuki’s forehead, pushing his hair back from his sweaty face, and smiled softly. “You were having a bad dream, Mizuki-san.” He shifted in his spot sitting on top of the sheets at Mizuki’s side, folding his legs and tucking his feet under his knees. 

Mizuki closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm himself. His heart was still hammering in his chest despite the inherent calm Clear brought with him. Ignoring the voice in his head calling him weak and pathetic, he turned onto his side to face Clear, curled up, and pressed his forehead against Clear’s hip. He missed the fond smile that crossed Clear’s lips, but sighed in relief when gentle, cool fingers stroked over his hair. Gradually his heart slowed to its normal pace as Clear petted him with a loving touch. 

“I saw a rabbit today,” Clear said. “A fluffy white rabbit. It reminded me of one of Mizuki-san’s tattoos.”

He had been particularly fond of that one. The client had been a young, earnest girl with big, hopeful eyes. Clear had sat in with them, as he sometimes had a tendency to do. He lifted an arm to drape around Clear’s waist, hugging him closer. 

A breeze blew in through the open window, setting the wind chime Clear had made with bits of pretty glass tinkling. The sound was as soothing to Mizuki as Clear’s presence was. All around them were reminders of their life together. Clear’s umbrella folded and propped in a corner. Mizuki’s sketchbooks littering the dresser. A photo of them both, arms wrapped tight around each other as each threw up matching peace signs. Clear’s wind chime dotted with old earrings Mizuki no longer wore. As Mizuki thought about each one, he reminded himself that things weren’t as they once were. He wasn’t a leader searching for relevance and fighting loneliness. He wasn’t selling off his teammates one by one in a desperate bid to regain lost glory. He wasn’t hurting his best friends. It was all in the past, and now he was here, Clear by his side, Dry Juice thriving, life finally settled into a semblance of normalcy (not that things could ever be normal with someone as eccentric as Clear in it). 

Clear was quiet as he ran his fingers through Mizuki’s hair. As comforting as the gesture was, Mizuki was afraid to sleep again. He knew the nightmares would be waiting for him, just as they always were. Sometimes he was lucky, but more often than not, vestiges of those dark days came back to haunt him. He sighed heavily. “I don’t want to go back to sleep,” he mumbled against the fabric of Clear’s pajama pants, hating how childish his voice sounded. 

“Would you like me to sing for you, Mizuki-san? Sometimes it helps.” 

Mizuki nodded against Clear’s hip. It _did_ sometimes help. More than sometimes, if Mizuki was totally honest with himself, but he hated being so dependent. Tonight, though, he would let himself.

Clear gently pulled Mizuki’s arm from around his waist and helped Mizuki settle back on his pillows. He pulled the twisted sheets straight and smoothed them over Mizuki before leaning down to press a kiss to Mizuki’s forehead. After Mizuki was securely tucked back in, Clear settled with his back against the headboard of the bed, folding his legs in so he could wrap his arms around them. 

“Sleep well, Mizui-san,” Clear said in a soft voice before he began to sing. Mizuki immediately recognized Clear’s famous jellyfish song. Clear gently rocked back and forth as he sang, and the rocking motion combined with the soothing song soon lured Mizuki back to a dreamless, restful sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me for this self-indulgent, insomnia-inspired fluff.


End file.
